Copyright 2006
Julien Gregg
All rights reserved.
No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or
otherwise, without written permission from the author. This story is almost all
fiction. Almost all of the characters depicted in this story exist exclusively
in the imagination of the author. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or
dead, is, sometimes purely coincidental. This story is based on the television
show, Charmed, and although the family name and a similar book of shadows appear
in this story, there are no characters from the show in the story. They may be
named, but they will never be portrayed.

Charmed is owned by Spelling Entertainment and Warner Brother's Television.
Certain spell text borrowed from the television show. However, since no money is
being made by this tale, I don't feel horrible about borrowing anything.

"Good morning, Mr. Halliwell," said Mr. Pollock. "How are the
three of you getting along?"

"Fine, thank you," replied Dean. He didn't know what to say about the other two,
though.

"Very good," said Pollock cheerfully. "Shall we go to the sun room? Its time to
read the will."

The cousins followed him silently with the other two lawyers tailing them. Each
took a seat when they entered the sun room. Their grandfather's urn still sat on
the table with flowers all around it. Mr. Pollock took the urn and placed it on
the mantle. He told them to keep an open mind as he pulled items out of his bag.
He made a large circle of seven white candles on the floor in the center of the
room, lit each one and then stood in front of the urn. Dean knew what he was
doing, but he didn't know if it would work. Damon and Drake thought the lawyer
had cracked, but they knew better than to say anything before the will was read.
They had to just sit and wait for whatever he was attempting to fail before
they'd find out, at last, what was in the will.

"Hear these words, hear my cry. Spirit from the other side. Come to me, I summon
thee. Cross now the great divide," said Pollock, and each of the young men
looked at him like he was crazy for a second before a flash of spiraling white
lights lit up the center of the circle of candles.

OneSomething Witchy This Way Comes

The lights twirled around each other
until the began to become a solid figure. The cousins gasped as the figure
became clear. Standing in the center of the circle of burning candles was an
older man that only one of them had ever met. He had salt and pepper hair, dark
eyes that seemed hard as steel, and he was dressed in a white suit. Dean knew
that this was Donald Halliwell, his grandfather.

"Danforth, thank you for gathering my grandsons," said Donald Halliwell, looking
at the lawyer. "I assume that you summoned me to tell them about their
inheritance?"

"That's correct, Donald," replied Pollock. "I must say that they are remarkable
young men."

"As they should be," said Donald. "They're Halliwells."

He turned his attention to the three young Halliwell men and took in their
startled faces. He knew that Drake was skeptical, and Damon wasn't sure what to
believe. He knew that Dean was struggling with memories that he'd suppressed
throughout his years away from the manor. It was time to tell them about their
destiny and what was expected of them.

"Don't look so shocked," he told them. "You discussed magic yesterday. I know
that you, Drake, do not believe, but I am proof that magic does exist."

"Grandfather," whispered Dean with a haunted look on his face.

"Yes, Dean, I'm here," replied Donald. "You shouldn't worry that your gift isn't
enough to save you. Each of you have gifts that you don't know about. Tonight,
you will learn about your gifts. Today, you will learn about your destiny."

"We're witches," sighed Dean, scrubbing his hands through his hair.

"You're much more than mere witches, Dean," informed Donald. "You three are the
most powerful Halliwell witches in generations. Coming together like this makes
you more powerful than any of the Halliwell witches. You, together, are
charmed."

"The charmed ones," whispered Dean. He knew about the charmed ones. His father
had told him stories about them when he was little. They were dead now, but he
remembered what it meant to be charmed. His father had told him that the charmed
ones were the most powerful witches in the world, and they were sorely missed
when they died.

"You're remembering the stories of your childhood," said Donald. "How much do
you really know about the charmed ones, Dean?"

"Not much," he admitted. "My father told me that the charmed ones were the most
powerful witches in the world."

"Powerful, yes," agreed Donald with a nod. "Yet they had their weaknesses as you
and your cousins will always have your weaknesses. Yet you are the charmed ones.
Of that there is no doubt."

"What are you talking about?" Drake gasped. "Charmed ones?"

"Drake, you're father has done you a horrible disservice," said Donald. "Taking
you away from Halliwell Manor was the worst thing he could have done. You are a
charmed one, and he knew it all along. Trying to save you from what he thought
was a lifetime of misery only made you vulnerable and weak. Now you have
returned, and it is time to face your destiny."

"I'm not powerful," argued Drake. "I have no powers."

"You each have powers that were bound from you when you were born to save you,"
replied Donald forcefully. "Tonight, when the moon is full, you will reclaim the
powers bound from you. You will each perform a spell to release the power within
you. Over time, your powers will grow and change. I'm sorry that I can't be here
to guide you when that happens, but if you need me, I'm only a spell away."

"Spells?" Damon asked. "You expect us to cast spells? What about God? What about
. . ."

"Damon, you were perhaps the most hurt by your father's actions," replied
Donald, interrupting his grandson. "Your mother was a powerful witch, and when
she died, your father couldn't deal with what he knew was coming in your life.
He forced a belief on you that has hindered you in your life. It is time to set
aside that belief and be the man you were destined to be.

"My name is Donald Peter Halliwell, and this is my last will and testament. I
bequeath to Dean, Damon and Drake Halliwell, Halliwell Manor and the Halliwell
Book Of Shadows. I require that the three of you live here in Halliwell Manor,
for together you are stronger than apart. You will face evil, and you will fight
on the side of good. Now . . ."

"I can't live here," said Drake, standing up. "My life is in Hawaii. Everything
I know is in Hawaii. I'm not a witch, and I don't want to be a charmed one."

"Be silent, Drake," ordered Donald. "I know that its hard to accept, but you are
a charmed one, a powerful witch. Tonight you will learn, but first . . ."

He snapped his fingers and a thick, large leather bound book appeared in his
left hand. He held the book in both hands as he said, "I bequeath to Dean, Damon
and Drake Halliwell, the magical protection of the Halliwell Book Of Shadows.
Step into the circle, the three of you, and place your right hands on the book.
Quickly now."

Dean was the first to comply with his grandfather's order. He knew that there
was no getting out of his destiny. He knew that being a charmed one wasn't a
choice he could make. He had to fight, and his cousins had to fight. The sooner
they realized that, the safer they would all be. He just hoped that they would
accept it soon.

Slowly, Drake and Damon joined their cousin in the circle. They each placed
their right hands on the book and looked up at the nearly transparent vision of
their grandfather. Drake was battling with himself over what was happening. He
wanted to get out of there and get back to Aaron. He wanted to believe that this
was all ridiculous, but the proof was standing before him. He had to believe it.
If he believed that much, then what his grandfather had said had to be true as
well.

Damon wasn't battling with himself. He believed completely. He wanted this more
than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. He wanted to make his mother proud.
She'd died bringing him into the world, and if she'd died so that a charmed one
could live, then he wouldn't balk at his destiny. It was with thoughts of his
mother that he put his right hand on the book.

"I call upon the ancient power," said Donald loudly. "Unbind what was bound.
Bring together these witches in this magical hour."

White light spread throughout the circle, and Dean felt a warmth spread through
him. His body began to tingle, and a gasp escaped him at almost the same time
that gasps escaped his cousins. He could feel something pulling inside of him,
and then it was as if a door opened in his head. Memories flowed through his
mind, and he remembered everything he'd been struggling to remember from his
childhood. He remembered the face of the demon that had killed his father. He
remembered the night his mother had packed him up and fled from Halliwell Manor.

"It is done, blessed be," said Donald as the three young men backed away from
him. Dean carried the book back to his seat. "You are now, charmed."

"So we have our powers now?" Dean asked, looking at the book in wonder.

"No, you do not have the charmed powers, yet," replied Don. "Each of you have
your very own power, and you may have tapped into them slightly in the past.
Now, you can use them at will with their full effect. I don't know what they
are."

"What are the charmed powers?" Dean asked, looking up at the ghostly appearance
of his grandfather.

"The prophecy says that the eldest of the charmed witches possesses the gift of
telekinesis," replied Donald. "The middle witch possesses the power of stopping
time and the youngest the power of premonition."

"Stopping time?" Damon asked as Drake asked, "Premonition?"

"Stopping time, otherwise known as freezing, will stop things from moving
forward," explained Donald. "You, Damon, will be able to freeze time in its
tracks. Not all of time. Only small parts. Time will continue for you and the
world, but whatever you have frozen will stop. You, Drake, will have the power
to see the past and the future. Make no mistake, though. The future isn't
written. Your premonitions can be changed. That is why you possess that power.
You have the power to see what will happen if no action is taken."

"And I'll be able to move things with my mind?" Dean asked.

"I do not know exactly how your power will manifest itself," admitted Donald.
"Each of your powers will take on their own manifestations. You'll learn how to
use your powers shortly after you receive them."

"We'll have to experiment?" Drake asked. "How would I get a premonition?"

"Usually, the power of premonition manifests itself when you touch a person or
object," explained Donald. "You will see pictures in your mind. That was one of
my powers, so I know it well."

"One of them?" Dean asked, looking at his grandfather again.

"You, Dean, know what one of your powers will be," replied Donald. "I don't know
how long it will take for your other powers to manifest themselves. I know that
after you perform the spell tonight, you will each receive the charmed power.
They are what I have already said. The others come from your parents."

"Lightning," whispered Dean, remembering the bolts of lightning that shot from
his father's hands when he tried to defend himself against the demon that killed
him.

"Yes," confirmed Donald. "Your father could harness lightning and use it as a
weapon. You will logically have inherited that power as well. Damon, your mother
could create illusions. It wasn't a very active power, but it was useful to her.
She could make a demon see anything she wanted. You will logically have
inherited her power."

"What about me?" Drake asked. "What could my father do?"

"Your father performed what we called the ice kiss," replied Donald. "He would
kiss his hand and blow on the palm of his hand. An icy wind would shoot from his
hand and freeze the demon he directed his hand at. You will have no doubt
inherited that power. I'm hoping that you didn't inherit much from your mother .
. ."

"My mother was a witch?" Drake asked excitedly, thinking about the probability
of more powers.

"Not a witch, but I think that's a question you should ask her when you conjure
her later," replied Donald.

"Conjure her?"

"Just as I have been summoned, you will each be able to summon dead spirits to
talk to you as well," explained Donald. "It only works on spirits of people who
died. If the person or demon was vanquished, you won't be able to conjure them.
No spirit exists after a vanquish."

"This is all so unreal," murmured Drake.

"Unreal is something that this is not, Drake," said Donald. "It is time for all
three of you to grow up. I know that you have matured into young men, but your
future is set in motion as of this day. You must embrace your destiny if you are
to survive. Magic is not always a blessing, and you will need mental strength to
deal with the darker side of what is now your lives."

"I knew it!" Damon's father's voice boomed from the doorway, making even the
ghost of Donald jump in surprise. "Damon, why did you come here? Why didn't you
listen to the warning I gave you?"

"Enough, Adam," thundered Donald's voice. "You knew what was in store for your
son, but instead of preparing him for his destiny, you hid it from him. Because
of you, your son could have been killed at any time with no way to defend
himself. Because of you, your son has been incomplete for a very long time. This
was supposed to happen on Drake's eighteenth birthday, Adam. You knew that.
Because of you, this day is two years late!"

"You lured them here to force them to take part in this insanity you call
witchcraft, Donald," accused Adam. "In all of the years that I kept my son
safely away from here, I tried so hard to make sure that your influence couldn't
reach him. I can't believe you . . ."

He stopped when he finally noticed how transparent Donald looked. Horror surged
through him as he realized what was going on. Donald was dead! His ghost was
handing down the legacy. There was no way to stop it now. He was holding the
book of shadows, and the three younger men were standing in the circle. The
transfer had already taken place.

"Oh, God," he sighed as he sagged against the doorway. "I'm too late."

"Yes, you are," replied Donald. "Children, it is time now for me to take my
leave. Remember that I am always only a spell away. This is yours." He handed
the book to Dean. "Use it well. Blessed be."

"Blessed be," the cousins replied in unison, and Donald became the twirling
lights again until even they faded away.

"There are a few things we must take care of before my colleagues and I depart,"
said Mr. Pollock. "The signing of the deed to the house as well as the transfer
of accounts and so forth."

"Damon, please," said Adam. "Please don't do this. I know that you don't have
the charmed power yet. Please don't do this."

"You knew?" Damon gasped. "All this time, you knew that I was a charmed one, and
you didn't tell me? Dad, how could you?"

"I wanted to spare you from dying the way that your mother died," cried Adam. "I
didn't want to have to bury you, too. I didn't even get to bury your mother.
They burned her body and entombed her in some crypt in California. Damon, I was
trying to save you!"

"The way my mother died?" Damon mumbled. "My mother died in childbirth."

"No, she didn't," sighed Adam, cursing himself for letting his mouth run. "She
died when you were six months old. She died fighting a demon that is still out
there! The same demon that killed her brother, Adam. This demon wanted all of
the Halliwells dead to stop you three from being born. Don't you see what will
happen if you take on the charmed power?"

"The demon that killed my father also killed my aunt?" Dean gasped. "So that
demon, Ash, is still out there?"

"Ash is one of the most powerful demons in existence," explained Adam. "He
killed my wife and your father, Dean. He'll kill the three of you, too. I don't
want that to happen. If you don't take the charmed power, he won't even know you
exist!"

"That's not entirely accurate," interjected Mr. Pollock. "Ash knows full well
that they exist. He's no doubt checked in on them several times over the years.
The only reason he hasn't attacked them is because he doesn't want to expose the
demonic world. I assure you that after today, even if they don't cast the spell
that brings them their charmed power, Ash will consider them a threat. Their
birth powers have been unbound."

"You unbound their birth powers?" Adam cried.

"I didn't do anything but have letters delivered to each of them to get them
here," replied Pollock. "Donald unbound their birth powers. Because of this, Ash
will soon come to hunt them. If they are apart and without their charmed powers,
they will die."

The situation sunk in for all three of the cousins. A demon was about to hunt
them. This demon had killed Damon's mother and Dean's father. They each wondered
how they would be able to stop a demon powerful enough to kill witches as
powerful as Donald had said the Halliwell witches were. They were all silent
with fear.

"Donald's ghost has probably just murdered my son and his cousins!" Adam spat.
"And you let him do it!"

"I submit to you, Mr. Jamison, nothing will stand in the way of the charmed
destiny," said Pollock. "Not you, not time, not anything. What Donald did was
make sure they were prepared. Ash would have come for them sooner or later. How
did you plan to protect Damon? You're not a witch. Mortals are no match for
demons, Adam. Even you know that."

Adam was silent for a few minutes. He stopped glaring at the lawyer and looked
at his son in misery. The demon would come for his son now for sure. The only
thing he could do was stop trying to stand in the way of Damon receiving his
power. Without it he was doomed. The lawyer had been right about that. Adam just
worried that his son would die no matter which charmed power he received.

"I won't stand in the way of this," he finally said. "Damon, I'm so sorry that
this has happened to you. I only tried to protect you, son."

"Dad, you've lied to me all of my life," said Damon. "Why did you tell me she
died giving birth to me? Do you have any idea what it was like for me to think
that I killed my own mother?"

"Damon . . ."

"No, you've done enough, Dad," Damon accused. "If I ever needed proof that I
belong here in Halliwell Manor, I have it now. I can't believe you knew about
all of this all of my life and didn't tell me anything. Don't say anything. If
you stay here, stay away from me."

"Damon, I . . ."

"Don't talk to me right now, Dad," Damon said, turning to Pollock. "You said we
had things that had to be taken care of."

"Right," said Pollock, looking from Adam to Damon and back. "If the three of you
will accompany me to the dining room, there are papers you need to sign. I have
a few things to explain to you as well."

"Damon . . ."

"Mr. Jamison, I think that your son needs to take care of a few things now. If
you would kindly wait in the living room while we take care of our business, I'm
sure you can see to yours later," said Mr. Rallings, saying virtually the very
first words since he'd arrived.

"You can't tell me . . ."

"DAD!" Damon screamed. "Go sit in the living room and let me do this! If you had
just let me have the protection of my family I wouldn't be in this much danger.
No go!"

Adam's mouth clicked shut as he stared in shock at his son. Everything he'd said
was true. He had put him in danger. He'd been trying to keep him from the demon,
but he knew that what he'd done had endangered his son as well as his nephews.
He walked out of the sun room quietly, but he still planned to talk to Damon as
soon as his "business" was over.

Damon followed his cousins out of the sun room and into the dining room. He'd
meant what he said to his father. He couldn't see any way to forgive him for
what he'd done. Maybe in the future he would find it within himself to
understand why he'd done it, but he didn't think he could ever forgive him.

They sat in a row at the dinging room table, and for the next two hours they
signed papers. Dean asked most of the questions, but he didn't leave out any
that his cousins weren't thinking about. What the papers consisted of were the
deed to the manor, which required all three of their signatures, three separate
bank accounts that had been opened in their names and only awaited their
signatures on the paperwork and signature cards and another deed to a building
that was owned by the family but wasn't currently in use.

"Now for the magical aspect of our meeting," said Mr. Pollock as he put all of
the signed papers into his briefcase. "There are a few things that you should
know before midnight."

"Midnight? What happens at midnight? Do we get attacked or something?" Drake
asked, looking worriedly at the lawyer.

"No," replied Pollock. "Midnight is the hour when the spell that gives you the
charmed powers must be cast. You must all be together when the spell is cast,
and it will require that you each read it in turn, not simultaneously."

"What exactly will happen when we read this spell?" Dean asked.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that," admitted Pollock. "It has been three
generations since the charmed ones cast that spell. It only works for charmed
witches, so naturally I don't know anything about it."

"Only two of them were your aunts, Dean," said Rallings. "One, Phoebe, was your
great, great grandmother."

"The family tree waits in the attic," said Pollock. "You can browse at your
leisure. What I must make you understand is that you can not use magic to better
your lives or solve any non magical problems. This falls under the category of
personal gain, and believe me, you don't want the repercussions that will come
from a spell cast for personal gain."

"How will we know if we are using magic for personal gain?" Damon asked.

"Well, any spell used for revenge, to gain something that you don't deserve from
your own actions and so forth would be personal gain," replied the lawyer.
"You'll understand more as you get used to magic. The other thing I have to tell
you is that what your grandfather told you is true. However, Ash is not the only
demon in existence. Further, demons are not the only problem."

"There's something worse than demons?" Drake asked with a shudder.

"Not worse, but evil none the less," said Rallings.

"I'm talking about warlocks," clarified Pollock. "Warlocks are not demonic,
though the aspire to become demons. They are human, just like you. A warlock is
a male witch who uses his powers for evil. Warlocks will want you dead just as
much as demons."

"Why would any of them want us dead?" Damon asked.

"Because you stand in the way of evil," replied Rallings. "Good witches save
innocent lives and right wrongs caused by evil. You stand in the way of anything
evil gaining any advantage in the world. As the charmed ones, you are more than
just good witches. You are the ultimate good witches."

"So these demons and warlocks will come for us just because we are the charmed
ones?" Drake asked.

"They would come for you even if you were merely good witches," replied Pollock.
"Being charmed only gives you a better defense against them. But always remember
that together, you are one of the most powerful forces on Earth. Together, you
have the power of three."

"And we'll have the power of three once we cast the spell at midnight?" Dean
asked.

"Yes, along with the individual charmed powers, the power of three will come
with the spell as well," confirmed Pollock.

"Danforth, where is Jason?" Rallings asked. "I thought he was supposed to be
here for this meeting."

"He was, but he is with another charge at the moment," replied Pollock. "White
lighters have many charges, so he won't always be around for meetings."

"Guarding the charmed ones should be considered of paramount importance," argued
Rallings. "I would think the Elders would have reassigned his other charges by
now."

'White lighter,' thought Dean. He vaguely remembered his father's white lighter.
Gregory was his name. He wasn't sure exactly what a white lighter was, but he
remembered his mother blaming Gregory for his father's death. He thought that
she was just angry because he couldn't save his father.

"What's a white lighter?" Drake asked, pulling Dean out of his thoughts and back
to the conversation.

"A white lighter is a kind of guardian angel," explained Rallings. "You were
assigned one the day you were born. Your parents had a white lighter of their
own. His name was . . ."

"Gregory," interrupted Dean. "I think I remember him."

"You may remember him," said Rallings. "He's checked in on all three of you
periodically, but you aren't his charges. Your white lighter is Jason. He was
supposed to be here for this meeting and the reading of the will, but as Pollock
said he has other charges. You might want to talk to him about getting his other
charges reassigned."

"Milton, perhaps you shouldn't say such things to the young men," cautioned
Pollock. "You never know when the Elders are listening."

"I'm sure they aren't listening . . ."

"I'm sure they are listening to us on the day the charmed ones are to receive
their powers," said Pollock, cutting Rallings off. "That is why I'm also sure
that they had a very good reason for sending Jason to whichever of his charges
is in need of him now."

"Gregory has been looking in on us?" Dean asked, ignoring the conversation the
lawyers were currently having. "Why didn't he let us know that?"

"With the way your parents have tried to keep you out of the magical world, I'm
sure he knew that a visit from their white lighter wouldn't be welcome," replied
Pollock. "If you wish to meet Gregory, Jason can find him for you. Now, if
you'll open the book to the first page, you'll see the spell you'll be casting
tonight. Follow the directions above the incantation to the letter. You'll find
all of the ingredients to every spell or potion in the pantry off the kitchen.
If you should run out of ingredients, Jason will show you were to purchase
more."

The conversation turned from white lighters to other magical beings. They didn't
explain much about any one magical being. Pollock said that most, if not all,
were covered in the book of shadows and urged the cousins to study the book. He
and Rallings had cautioned them at least fifty times before they finally packed
up their papers and cases and left the manor, leaving the cousins to discuss
what they believed their lives would be like now that they were charmed.

"Demons constantly trying to kill us isn't indicative of a great life," said
Damon. "Maybe my father was right to keep me away from the family. I don't know
if I can handle fighting demons all of the time."

They were sitting in the living room. Adam had left before the lawyers, and
Damon was thankful for that. He wasn't ready to talk to his father, but he did
put the note left by Adam into his pocket. His hotel and room number were in the
note. Just because he wasn't ready to talk to him then didn't mean he would
never want to talk to him again.

"Would you rather be stuck in Alaska with no powers to defend yourself when a
demon decided to attack you?" Dean asked. "Demons killed our parents, Damon.
What makes you think they would have left us alone forever?"

"I've made my decision," said Drake. "I want the power of three on my side. To
have that I have to stay here in Storyville and live in the manor. I figure that
since I am part owner of the manor, I should live in it no matter what."

"We really don't know that much about each other," argued Damon. "What makes us
so sure that we'd even get along long enough to stand together and fight
demons?"

"We seem to be getting along with each other fine so far," Dean pointed out.
"Why should that change?"

"There are things about each other that we don't know yet," said Damon. "What if
we don't like the things we find out about each other?"

Damon was worried about what Dean and Drake would say when they found out that
he was gay. He didn't think it would be very comfortable to live in a house with
cousins that hated him because of something he couldn't change about himself. He
wanted to stay in the manor, and he really wanted the safety of having his
cousins with him, but would they help protect him if they knew about him?

"Well then maybe we should come clean with the secrets now," said Drake, making
both of his cousins grow silent. He couldn't believe he was about to tell them
the truth, but he knew that if he was going to live with them they had to know.
"All right, here goes," he said when neither of them said a word. "I'm gay, and
I have a lover named Aaron that lives in Hawaii. I've been trying to figure out
how to tell him that I'm moving to Storyville."

Damon and Dean just stared at him for a second, and he thought that maybe he'd
made the wrong choice in telling them the truth. Perhaps he'd gone about it the
wrong way as well. He was always getting himself into trouble by speaking before
he'd really thought about how to say what he wanted.

"Forget telling him you're moving here," said Dean, scaring him to death. "What
do you think he'd say if he found out that you're a witch? I mean really found
out."

"You don't care about . . ."

"I'm a stripper in a gay club, Drake," said Dean with a smirk. "I'm not proud of
myself, but I've been dancing there for three years, and sometimes there are
private parties and, though sex isn't required, I have had sex with men at the
parties. In a way I guess that could make me a prostitute. I'm gay, too, Drake."

It was Damon who let out a sigh of relief, causing his cousins to look at him.
Both men thought it was a disgusted sigh at first, but when a warm, relieved
smile washed over his face they relaxed. Then they were laughing and talking
about how strange it was that they were all three homosexuals. They wondered how
that would effect their craft, but Dean told them that he didn't think it would
make any difference.

They were having so much fun together that when they looked at the clock on the
wall, they were shocked to see that it was nearly midnight. It was almost time
to cast the spell that would bring them their charmed powers. Dean read through
the list of ingredients that was required to cast the spell and named them off
to Drake, who was heading to the kitchen to get them.

They moved to the sun room and got everything ready for the spell. There was
very little talking, because they were each afraid that they'd chicken out if
they talked about it too much. They decided that it was better to just go on
with it than to risk talking themselves out of it completely. They each wanted
the powerful protection that the spell would bring them.

At midnight, Dean lit the sage stick and opened the book while Drake and Damon
lit the candles and took their seats. As Dean silently read the spell to
himself, he wondered if he would feel different once he'd cast the spell.
Deciding to find out, he took Drake and Damon's hands.

"Hear now the words of the witches. The secrets hid in the night. The oldest of
gods are invoked here. The great work of magic is sought. In this night and in
this hour, I call upon the ancient power. Bring your powers to we cousins three.
We want the power. Give us the power," Dean read aloud, taking no notice of the
strange worried look on Damon's face from across the table.

Damon was worried that the demon, Ash, would miraculously show up once the spell
was complete. He didn't think they were ready to battle the demon who had killed
their more experienced parents. Those thoughts kept running through his head as
he read the words of the spell out loud, gripping his cousins' hands as he read
them.

Drake had no inhibitions about reading the words of the spell out loud. He
wanted the power. He wanted the legacy that came with it. It was his destiny,
after all. The only fear he had was after he'd finished reading the words out
loud. As soon as the last word was out of his mouth, the chandelier began to
shake and a blue light shown down on them from nowhere.

"What is that?" Damon squawked.

Drake couldn't answer, though. He let out a gasp as a scene unfolded in his
mind. He saw himself standing in a hotel room. There were small fires in several
places in the room, and Adam Jamison lay dead on the floor. A man, holding a
ball of fire in his hand stood across the room from them with a grin on his
face. Lightning arched from Dean's hands at the same time that the man threw the
ball of fire. It hit Damon, and he fell to the floor.

"What's wrong, Drake?" Dean demanded.

"I think I just had a premonition," he replied, breathing heavily. "We have to
get to your dad's hotel, Damon. I think a warlock is going to kill him."

"Tell me exactly what you saw, Drake," said Dean quickly. Damon was staring at
Drake in horror.

Drake quickly told his cousins exactly what he saw and even described the smell
of the room. Dean walked him through the vision step by step, and Drake admitted
that the sun was up, because he could see daylight filtering in through the
windows in the hotel room. As he described the man who he'd seen trying to kill
them, Dean began thumbing through the book to see if he was in its pages. He
stopped on a page and a small moan escaped him.

"What is it?" Damon snapped.

"The guy you described isn't a guy, Drake," Dean said slowly, turning the book
so that his cousins could see the page he was looking at. "You described Ash."

Damon and Drake were both silent with fear as Dean took a sheet of paper off the
table and began to write down the vanquishing spell that would kill Ash. It said
that the spell required the power of three, and Dean could only hope that they
had that now that the spell to receive the charmed powers was complete. He
wondered what the strange blue light had been, and he hoped maybe it was
whatever force that was responsible for the world bestowing the power of three
upon them.

"I've got the spell," he said as he folded the paper and put in his pocket.
"We're all three going to have to read it at the same time for it to work."

"We'll call a cab," Damon cut him off. He got up and went to the telephone in
the hall. They could hear him asking the directory assistance operator for the
number of a cab company and then, a few seconds later, they heard him order the
cab.

"My premonition was in the day time," Drake said to Dean. "Why are we going
now?"

"Because you don't know exactly what time of day it happens," explained Dean.
"It could be first light, or it could be noon. Its better to be there. Maybe we
can save Adam."

"There's more that I didn't tell you," said Drake, putting his head down. "Ash
is going to kill Damon if the events play out like they did in my premonition."

"Well, one thing is for certain," Drake replied. "I know you have your father's
power. I saw you use it against Ash in my premonition."

"Cab's on its way," said Damon, coming back into the room. "We should wait for
it outside, maybe."

"Yeah," said Dean unable to look at his cousin. He knew that he had to make sure
that Drake's premonition didn't come true. He didn't want Damon's father dead,
and he didn't want Damon dead. He would do anything in his power to make sure
that everything was different.

They were nervously silent the entire time they were in the cab. The driver kept
trying to instigate conversation, but the cousins weren't having any part of it.
Each was wrapped up in their worries over the demon they were rushing off to
vanquish. Dean thought that on his first night as a charmed one, the last thing
he wanted to be doing was looking for evil to vanquish.

When they reached the hotel, Damon nearly ran through the lobby. Dean and Drake
had to take his arms to slow him down. On the elevator, he paced back and forth
until the car stopped on his father's floor. Then they were chasing him down the
hall to the room, and he began to pound on the door until a very sleepy Adam
answered.

"Damon," he said, stifling a yawn. "What's going on?"

"Are you all right?" Damon breathed, pushing past his father and rushing into
the room.

"Drake, Dean," Adam said with a nod as he stood aside. "Maybe you two will tell
me what's going on."

"Nothing out of the ordinary has happened here tonight?" Dean asked instead of
explaining. He just didn't know how to tell Adam that a demon was coming to kill
him.

"You mean besides my son and nephews pounding on my door at two in the morning?"
Adam chuckled, but he stopped when he saw the haunted look on his nephew's face.
"Dean, what?"

"Ash," Dean said simply. "Drake had a premonition . . ."

"Ash is coming here?" Adam gasped.

"In my premonition he was here, yes," affirmed Drake. "But it was daytime in my
premonition, so . . ."

"Great," said Adam, running his fingers through his hair. "A demon is coming
here some time in the daytime to kill me?"

"That's why we're here," said Dean. "We're here to vanquish him."

Adam stared at him for a second. He saw Dean's father looking back at him. He'd
said the very same thing about Ash so many years ago, but he'd died trying to
vanquish him. He'd been warned that it would take the power of three to vanquish
Ash, but he wouldn't listen. Ash had killed his first wife, and he wanted
revenge.

"Dean . . ."

"Look, I know what you're going to say," interrupted Dean. "I know what happened
to my dad. I half remember it, but I have something that he didn't have. The
power of three."

"The power of three? Dean, you're just boys! You haven't even known you were
witches for twenty-four hours, but now you think you can vanquish a demon that
none of your parents have been able to?" Adam moaned. "I swear I wish you boys
had never heard of Halliwell Manor."

"If we had never heard of the manor, we wouldn't know what it takes to vanquish
Ash, Dad," said Damon. "Would you rather he had come to Alaska and killed us
without me having any way to defend us?"

"I'd rather that the demons didn't know anything about any of you boys at all,"
spat Adam. "How can I feel better just because you're the charmed ones? What
does that mean to me? I wasn't even born when the last trio of charmed witches
wielded power over evil. I do know that it was evil that took their lives,
though. Do you think that's what I want for you boys?"

"Of course not, Adam," said Dean. "But did you really believe that Damon would
never learn the truth about who he was? Did you think that demons would never
find him if he didn't come here?"

"Oh, I knew there were demons that would look for him," said Adam bitterly. "My
son, the charmed one. Binding his powers when he was born probably did no good,
but we did what we thought would save all of you boys. The longer it took for
evil to know about you the better we thought your chances would be. Now that's
all over. Ash is coming, because he knows you have your powers. Killing me is
probably just his way of getting to you."

"Damon, we have to be ready for him when he gets here," cautioned Dean. "Drake
didn't see how he got here, his premonition started with the end of the battle
between us. I imagine that he'll materialize somewhere in the living room of the
suite. That's where Drake saw everything."

"How do we get ready for this?" Damon asked. "I don't even know if I can freeze
time."

"Try," said Drake, sitting forward. "Freeze your dad."

Damon looked at his father and tried to concentrate on freezing him in time. He
blinked his eyes and nodded his head, but nothing happened. He was giving up,
and he waved his hand as if to wave his father away and then it worked. His
father was about to speak, and when he looked back at him, he saw that his face
was frozen with his mouth just opening.

"I did it!" He was so excited, but then he thought of something. "How do I undo
this?"

"How, indeed," said a deeper voice from the doorway to the bedroom of the suite
and the cousins were on their feet.

Ash stood there, grinning at them with a fireball in his right hand. Drake was
momentarily stunned by what he saw. This wasn't the man from his premonition at
all. This was a demon. He was naked from the waist up, and there were deep red
tribal tattoos up and down his arms. Two fiery red horns protruded from the
sides of his forehead, and his teeth looked like they belonged to a vampire.
Before any of them could do anything, Ash threw the fireball in his hand, and
Adam's frozen body fell sideways where he'd been sitting.

"NO!" Damon screamed, and he waived both hands in front of him, freezing Ash
just as another fireball formed in his hand.

"Now!" cried Dean as they moved close enough together to read the scrap of paper
that he held in his hand.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Unwind this demon's evil lust. Enclose him in
eternity's fist. Rid this evil from our midst!" They stood, clutching each
other's hands as they watched Ash's body become consumed with flames.

Ash screamed, but he loosed the fireball, and before Damon could move, it struck
him in the chest, knocking him to the floor and everything went black for him.
Dean and Drake were screaming his name, but their voices were sounding further
and further away. He was dying, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Dean swore under his breath, and Drake kept saying no over and over again. They
both stopped in their tracks when what looked like illuminated blue glitter
began to flicker in the air. It was sparse at first, but more and more of it
began to join the dancing particles until they became a solid blue light. This
reminded Drake of a story a teacher had told him when he was a child. It was
about fireflies in a wind storm. Then there was a brown haired man that they
both knew standing there. His brown eyes looked worried, and then he saw Damon
on the floor.

"Damon," he cried, rushing over to him and kneeling down. He rolled Damon onto
his back, put his hands over the bloody wound in his chest, and suddenly there
was a golden light. Dean and Drake watched in wonder as the wound grew smaller
and smaller until it was gone completely, and Damon was coughing as Jason helped
him sit up.

"Jason Neald," Damon said in wonder, and then he was pointing at his father.

Coming up . . . .

How does Damon know the white lighter? What will the
cousins do about Adam? How will they learn to use their new powers? The answers
are coming soon. Look for Chapter Two: What Magic Is This? Coming
Soon!